hooooty-hooooooooo

No picture this time, just a story:
Last night, around 3:30 in the morning, we wake to the sound of Bean's "big girl bark"(a deeper, more serious bark than her usual annoying yap). It seems that she hears some owls outside, and answers each "whoooo" with a "rrrrufff!". Surely the owls have to stop in a minute or two right? We wait. Nope. They are actually getting louder.

Bean is going nuts. Sometimes when she is like this, I let her out of her crate, take her outside, and let her investigate whatever it was that she heard. After a few minutes, she's convinced that there is no immediate threat to the house, and will go back inside. So I take her out. Turns out that the owls (there must be more than one) are in the tree right outside our bedroom window. After a few tries, she realizes she cannot climb trees, and I drag her back into the house.

I use a doggie cookie to lure her back into the crate. She hesitates, as if to say "Alright. But if you guys get eaten up by those things outside, I'm not responsible. I'll be safe in my crate." More "whooooo". More "rrrrufff!" Bryan is losing his patience. For those of you who have not met him, you may not be aware that he has to get up at FIVE AAYY EMMM, EVERY MORNING!!! (as he likes to remind people).

I have an idea. I drag the boom box into the bedroom, thinking that the music will mask the sound of the owls and Bean will go back to sleep. I figure it will be much easier to fall asleep to Sarah Vaughan than our present vocalists. Turns out I have to have the volume pretty high in order to cover the "whoooo"s (who knew owls were so LOUD??). Bean's still not buying it.

I go sit beside her crate and sing along to her, thinking my voice (something familiar) will sooth her. So now in addition to the "whoooooo"s and the "rrruffff!"s, we have both me and Sarah crooning out "whatever looooola wants.....". Bryan has piled all of the pillows on top of his head, and is threatening to go home (we don't technically live together; he keeps all of his crap in a house down the street).

Then, by the grace of God, bean lies down. I start singing in more of a whisper, then stop all together and get back in bed. We hear bean snoring, and I turn down the stereo. The owls leave. I turn the music off all together. And we fall back to sleep.

Bryan's alarm goes off about 15 minutes later.

True story.